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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28715385">Comfort Crowd</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneoneandone/pseuds/oneoneandone'>oneoneandone</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Women's Soccer RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:34:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,373</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28715385</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneoneandone/pseuds/oneoneandone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She'd almost backed out of their weekend. Almost suffered alone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lindsey Horan/Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Comfort Crowd</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <b>Prompt</b>
  <br/>
  <i>Soharan with Emily sleeping on the couch</i>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>They don't get to spend much time together, spread across three teams now, an entire country. Three different sponsors, three different schedules for appearances, ad shoots, interviews. And then there's their families, each with their own particular demands on their loved one's time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But every now and then the stars align. Or, more likely, one of them puts the effort in to tracking their shared calendar, cross-referencing the dates, buying the plane tickets and making the arrangements. So that for a few days, at least, they can be themselves together.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Still, it always feels like a miracle, even knowing how much time and effort Kelley, or Lindsey, or Emily had gone through to arrange it all. Some little slip of paradise coaxed out of the æther just for their benefit. A time-turner all their own.</em>
</p><p>—</p><p>They're converging in Utah. In Kelley's bright and sunny condo with the mountains in the distance. Four days carved out of their busy schedules to relax, unwind, soak in each other's presence. An oasis before pre-season starts, before they really start the grind of another season, the path to making the Tokyo roster.</p><p>Kelley whistles along with the radio as she parks her forest green Wrangler in the short-term parking structure at the SLC airport. A little gift to herself after winning her second World Cup, the perfect car to navigate the desert dust, the mountains. She almost can't wait to hear the undoubtedly eye-rolling responses her girlfriends will have. Really, she can't wait to hear their voices in general, up close and in person, not mediated through technology. It’s only been two weeks since they’d parted after their win at the SB Cup, but she’s been missing them something fierce after almost a full month of being together with the team.</p><p>In the airport Kelley sets up camp at the coffee shop nearest to the line of Delta-branded baggage returns, and skims through her playlists to find one to zone out to while she waits.</p><p>Almost forty-five minutes have passed before she realizes that she hasn’t heard anything from her girlfriend yet, not a text saying she's arrived, not a "meet you at baggage," not a "where the hell are you," nothing. At the very least, she would have expected the latter from Emily, who usually gets no end of joy from teasing Kelley. So Kelley sends off a quick text to the second group chat pinned in her messages—only her parents rate higher than Em and Lindsey—and packs up the book and iPad from where she’s been pretending to read the early focus group reviews on a new product for Beast. When she crosses the short distance between the coffee shop and carriage number four, where the last few bags off-loaded from Emily's flight are still waiting, she looks around, but still doesn’t see her girlfriend anywhere.</p><p>"Sorry," Emily said, phone in her hand as she comes down the slanted walkway connecting the terminal to the Arrivals, "there was a long line for the bathroom and—"</p><p>But Kelley just shakes her head and smiles, brushing back a little bit of hair that had fallen from the blonde's ponytail, frowning a bit as she takes in the perspiration on Em’s brow, the slightest flush to her cheeks that's just barely visible peeking out from behind her dark sunglasses. "You feeling okay, Son?" she asks softly, taking an assessing look at her. There’s just something ... off ... about the younger woman, something that has Kelley tilting her head, trying to figure out what could be wrong</p><p>"Just really had to pee," Emily shakes off the concern, but gives her girlfriend what she thinks could pass for a look of nonchalance.</p><p>In truth, she isn't feeling well at all. The two weeks since they last saw each other have been packed—coming back from a long camp, getting settled in her new place in Orlando, all the on-boarding meetings and tasks to get acclimated to the new team. Emily is exhausted, and it hasn't helped that she's been suffering from a quite uncomfortable stomach flu over the last day or so.</p><p>"It's just you and me tonight, right?" she points out her bag and lets Kelley grab it off the rotating belt, "Linds doesn't get in until tomorrow?" There’s an almost plaintive sound in her voice, and Kelley briefly pauses as they make their way toward the short-term parking where she’d parked.</p><p>“What?” Kelley smiles as they wait for the elevator to take them to the correct floor, and lifts her free band to play with the baby hairs at Emily’s nape, “you want me all to yourself for the day?" She leans in to kiss the blonde's cheek teasingly, hip-checking her gently. "Or are you afraid to be all alone with me?"</p><p>But Emily doesn't push back the way she usually does, she only grips the strap of her backpack tighter over her shoulder, grimacing a little.</p><p>Kelley looks closer now, gently pulling her to the side, out of the way of the crowd waiting for the elevator with them. "Em, baby?" she asks softly, lifting the younger woman's chin with her finger "What's up, honey?"</p><p>It takes a moment before Emily gives in, leaning forward and letting her head rest against Kelley's. "I'm not feeling great," she admits as the older woman nods. That much was clear. "My stomach," the blonde blushes deep red, and Kelley thinks she understands. Both what's wrong, and why Emily seems so shy, so upset about it.</p><p>Spending half their time living out of a suitcase with twenty other women, there are very few mysteries about the human body they haven't seen, haven't experienced, haven't shared with each other. But coming down with a stomach ailment in camp is one thing. They'd all suffered from one at some point or another, and the jokes back and forth are as welcome as they are a kind of healing.</p><p>Coming down with it right before what's supposed to be a weekend full of fun and love and sex, that's something else entirely. It's embarrassing and it's upsetting, and there's a part of Emily that wishes she'd begged off, never gotten on the plane and just made some excuse about needing to be in Orlando over the weekend. She could have suffered all by herself instead of worrying about embarrassing herself in front of the two women she loved so deeply, so completely.</p><p>Kelley strokes over her jaw and leans in to kiss her cheek again, even softer this time. "Let's go home, okay? I've got some stuff that might help, and we can just curl up on the sofa and watch dumb movies all night?"</p><p>Emily nods, her forehead still pressed against her girlfriend's. "I'm sorry," she whispers, "I was looking forward to seeing you both so much, and then yesterday I started to feel like this and I hoped it would go away but—" The older woman interrupts her, running her hands up and down the blonde's arms.</p><p>"Hey," Kelley says softly, "the only thing I'm upset about is the fact that you're not feeling well." She shakes her head, the words not coming out quite how she'd like them to. "I mean—" but the blue eyes looking back at her are warm and relieved, and Kelley knows that even if the words didn't come out quite right, Emily had understood the message underneath. "Come on, baby," she gently tugs Emily into the elevator that opens before them. "Start thinking about what movies you want to watch."</p><p>— — —</p><p>"Here you go," Kelley hands the blonde a hydration bottle where she's settled back against the couch cushions. Emily's hair is pulled back in a loose bun, still wet from the shower she'd taken when they'd arrived at the condo, and she looks soft and warm and snuggly in a pair of loose grey sweatpants and one of Lindsey's old, oversized hoodies.</p><p>The blonde eyes the bottle warily. "What is it," she asks, taking it with tentative fingers, and Kelley laughs quietly before bending to press a kiss to her brow. She'd already insisted on Emily taking a dose of thick, chalky Pepto-Bismol, something the younger woman had practically gagged over, claiming that the texture of it alone was more likely to make her throw up again than anything else.</p><p>"Diluted apple juice," Kelley smiles down at her before taking a seat against the arm of the couch. "Didn't you learn anything in college? You've been sick for almost twenty-four hours now, by your count, and you're dehydrated and low on electrolytes. This'll help with that. I've got Gatorade and Pedialyte too, if you prefer, but this is actually better for you."</p><p>She waits until Emily has taken a few sips, and then tugs her girlfriend to lay down, to rest her head in her lap. And the movie is queued up, but Kelley doesn't press play just yet. She sits there on the couch, feet up on the ottoman, fingers scratching soothingly over the back of the blonde's neck. "Em," she says softly, "when I say I love you, I mean this you too. I love you in the big moments and the small ones, the good and the bad. I love you when you're bouncing off the walls with excitement, and I love you when you're sleeping in my lap, letting me take care of you. "</p><p>Kelley reaches a hand over for a blanket that's draped on the back of the couch and pulls it down, spreading over the younger woman's body. "You're pretty snuggly when you're sick," she smiles, resting her hand over Emily's side.</p><p>But Emily just smiles. "I'm snuggly all the time," she says with a little smile, and Kelley nods.</p><p>"That you are."</p><p>— — —</p><p>"So how sick was she when you picked her up?" Lindsey asks from the passenger seat, taking a sip of the coffee Kelley had greeted her with at baggage claim.</p><p>Kelley looks over at her, "You know it's only like a thirty minute drive to my place, right?" And she sees the brunette nod. "Well, we had to stop twice on the way."</p><p>Lindsey makes a face, "Ugh, poor Em." And the older woman nodded her agreement.</p><p>"In addition to feeling gross from being sick, she also feels pretty bad for ruining our weekend," Kelley tells her after a moment, and she chances a look over at Lindsey to see her response.</p><p>"Well, that's stupid," Lindsey responds without hesitation. "She's not ruining anything. It's not like she got sick on purpose. And we're all going to be together still, which was the point of the whole trip, so what does she think she ruined?"</p><p>Kelley reaches over to grab the midfielder's hand, giving her a sweet smile as they wait at an intersection before the freeway entrance ramp, "Exactly."</p><p>— — —</p><p>She'd left Emily asleep in her big bed, carefully tiptoeing around the younger woman to grab what she needed for the drive to the airport and back. But when they return, it's to the television on in the living room, and a sleeping blonde curled up around a pillow she'd stolen from the bedroom and the blanket from last night.</p><p>"Asleep," Lindsey confirms, moving just close enough to see the slow and steady rise and fall of Emily's chest, the slack expression on her face, before joining Kelley at the breakfast bar. They talk quietly as Kelley makes them both breakfast, a batch of pancakes and some vegan bacon that she has sworn will be indistinguishable from the real thing. But even as quiet as they try to be, eventually Emily shifts behind them, arms up high as she stretches the muscles in her shoulders, her back, with a loud yawn.</p><p>"Hey," the blonde comes over to them, blanket around her body like a cape, wrapping her arms around Lindsey's midsection and resting her cheek against the taller woman's shoulder, "you didn't wake me?"</p><p>Kelley starts to answer, but Lindsey beats her to it, hopping off the stool and gently guiding Emily to sit. "We wanted to let you sleep a bit longer," she says easily, standing behind the blonde and letting her fingers trace the muscles of her shoulders, her back, finding the tense muscles, the knots, and kneading them out slowly. "Kel said you were under the weather a bit."</p><p>"How are you feeling?" the older woman comes back to the counter, a now-familiar glass of juice in her hand. "You look a little better." And Emily nods.</p><p>"I feel better," the blonde takes the glass gratefully, "my stomach is more settled. I just have to pee like every ten minutes from all the tea and juice and water you've been making me drink."</p><p>But Kelley only shrugs, unfazed, and returns to the stove-top where the pancakes she's making are ready to flip. "Mama Karen's philosophy," she expertly turns one of the golden medallions over, "push enough fluids through and you'll push all the bad stuff right out."</p><p>Lindsey laughs softly, pressing a kiss to the back of Emily's head. "Smart lady," she says from behind the blonde. "Even if it has you doing the potty-dance like a toddler who just can't hold it." And Emily scowls, forcing her jiggling leg to stay still long enough for her to think up a retort.</p><p>But she can't. And she does really, really, have to pee again.</p><p>"Hey," she hops off the stool, "when I get back, can you make me a smoothie?" And Kelley nods, because she knows that the blonde definitely needs more than just tea and juice if she's going to continue to feel better.</p><p>"Sure, and after, I was thinking we could all share the couch? Since you're still under the weather and Lindsey here had to get up at, what did you call it again, Satan's Ass o'clock?" Kelley grins over at her. "Have a little group nap?"</p><p>She's rewarded immediately with a relieved grin from Lindsey, and an excited kiss on the jaw from Emily, and Kelley knows—this weekend might not look like they'd planned for it to go. But she'd be hard pressed to say it hasn't turned out exactly how they'd all hoped—all in love and together.</p>
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